


cross our hearts and backbone

by frausorge



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Los Angeles Kings, San Jose Sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5127257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frausorge/pseuds/frausorge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The text from Pears is short: <i>got a min?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	cross our hearts and backbone

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Steel Train.

The text from Pears is short: _got a min?_

Martin answers even more briefly: _y omw_

When the Sharks went to LA for the opener, they flew down a day early, and there was time for Martin to go out with all the boys. Now with the season in swing, there's no slack in the Kings' travel schedule, and Martin knew not to expect to hang out. Even now he's in a fairly short window in his own pre-game routine. But he felt himself grin when his phone lit up, and he ducks out of the room and through the double doors without deliberating any further.

Pears is loitering in the hallway a few yards away. "Joner!" he says. "Aw man, it's good to see you." He wraps Martin up in a full-body hug. Martin lets himself squeeze back. Some maintenance staff pass behind them, eyeing them curiously, and Pears lets go. "Hey, can we-" he says, glancing around. But there's really nowhere to go. 

"Here," Martin says, and he heads around the corner towards the concession supply closets. It's quieter, at least. Pears leans against the wall and tugs Martin in by the wrist to stand in front of him. 

"You look good," he says. He plucks at the front of Martin's T-shirt. "This is still fucking weird, though."

"Yeah," Martin says.

"I kind of-" Pears says. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I sorta wish you'd actually gone to Boston."

Martin huffs out half a laugh. "If I wanted to keep staring at the guy ahead of me, I could have stayed put. Quickie's got a better ass than Rask."

Pears gives that a polite chuckle, but his face is rueful. "I know," he says, "I didn't mean that part - you totally deserve to start. I just..."

He trails off, watching Martin's face. Martin swallows; he doesn't know what Tanner's seeing there, nor how to read the yearning in Tanner's own eyes.

A door bangs in the main hallway, and Pavs yells, "Jonesy? You out here?"

"Yeah," Martin calls back. "Be right there."

There's silence for a moment. Then Pavs says, "'Kay," and his footsteps go back the other way.

Tanner sinks back against the wall and looks up at Martin. "Joner," he says, very low.

" _After_ ," Martin says.

Tanner sighs. Then he lifts his head and socks Martin in the shoulder. "I'm not going easy on you, you know."

"Wouldn't want you to." 

"Okay," Pears says. "Fucking call me, though. I wanna get to talk to you."

Martin can feel himself smiling again. "All right," he says. 

Pears holds up his fist, and Martin knocks his own against it. Then he turns away and heads in to suit up for his team.


End file.
